


One Evening

by cvioleta



Category: Lucifer (Comic), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Blood Kink, F/M, Hell Fic, I'm not just going to Hell I'm making sure I prequalify for management, Mazifer, Mind Games, Not today's kinder gentler Lucifer, Pre-Canon, Shameless Smut, Snarky about God
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 11:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvioleta/pseuds/cvioleta
Summary: Set in Hell long before the show begins, and before Lucifer’s mother is cast into Hell.  Maze was created a demon and has never known anything else.  She's content as a tool of destruction and has never even thought about anything else until Lucifer gets bored one evening...





	One Evening

She awoke in the middle of the night, although she could not have explained how she knew the time in a place where darkness was eternal.  A single candle had been left burning and in the flickering light, she could see the rich drapes and ornamentation of the chamber in which she lay.  Without turning over, she could feel the heat of another person radiating toward her in the bed.  A _very warm_ other person.

_No. Way._

And then she remembered.  

 

* * *

He had summoned her to his chambers after dinner.  When she arrived, she was surprised to find him alone. It was a rare sight.  Work was work, and they often worked and dined together, but they always parted ways after the evening meal, and Maze knew that he entertained himself with an endless series of new arrivals who believed they could avoid punishment by having sex with him. 

It wasn’t surprising that they tried.  That tactic had worked for them on Earth, where there were laws and even the dirtiest of deals were somewhat reined in by potential consequences.  Here, there was no avoidance of consequences, no way to swerve or influence.  He let them try, and sometimes she did as well.  After all, the humans were the only form of entertainment to be had in Hell, and they tried very hard to please when they believed it could save them from torture. 

“My Lord,” she said in greeting.

He smiled at her.  He was sitting in an armchair by the fire, which did not seem unusual at all to her, but always seemed to amuse him.  Apparently, there was something very funny about a fireplace in Hell, but Maze had never been anywhere else, so she didn’t understand the joke. 

“Come in.”

She slipped in quietly, crossing the floor in her bare feet, and knelt before him, waiting for his nod before she adjusted her position to sit more comfortably at the edge of the bricks that extended out from the fire.  Maze tucked her feet under her and waited to find out why she had been summoned.  She loved the feel of the fire only feet from her back; she could feel every time a flame jumped a little closer through the thin shift that served as her nightdress. 

“I hope I didn’t interrupt your evening,” he said, polite as always, even though he had every right to interrupt her any time he wished and they both knew it.  He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose pants, his feet bare and a glass of dark liquid in his hand. 

“Not at all.  Is there something you require my assistance with?”

“Hmmm,” he mused and handed her a second drink that had not been there a moment ago.  “More like your company, Mazikeen.”

She took the drink from him.  It was whiskey, one of the few things the humans had gotten right, and the burn of the drink going down her throat matched the heat at her back nicely. 

“It is my honor to serve you in any way you choose.”  Her soft words were without irony.   It was a simple fact that she had been created to serve him.   Her gifts had been assigned to her so that she could be of the greatest possible use.  Her intelligence, her athleticism, her creativity, her cruelty…all part of a divine plan that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with him.

“Then tell me about yourself.”

She had never expected such an unsettling question.  “My Lord?  I don't believe there is anything you do not already know.”

“I know what you do all day.   I know what you will say before you say it.   You're very obedient.   No one wields a blade with more precision than you do.  The question is about what I _don't_ know.’  He leaned back in the chair and took a generous sip of his drink.   “You walk around all day in the heads of the souls at your mercy…hunting their greatest fears and making them real.  But you also see their lives and see the things that brought them joy.”

Maze nodded. “Sometimes that is the source of the most effective punishment.”

He looked pleased with her answer.  “Indeed.  Have you ever seen anything that intrigued you? Anything you would want to experience for yourself?”

The question sounded like a test and she chose her words carefully.   “No.  Their lives are so limited.  Constrained, powerless.  Most spend their lives desiring what they cannot have.   It must be…frustrating.”

Lucifer almost laughed at her answer.  "That's very perceptive.  I imagine it would be frustrating indeed not to get what you want.  It’s only happened to me once.”  He looked away from her, into the fire, lost in his own thoughts for a long moment before turning back to her to ask his next question. 

“Have you ever not gotten what you wanted, Maze?"

"No," she answered.  "I have always accomplished what I set out to do." 

"You have, indeed.  Your skill is beyond compare."

She met his eyes.  "Thank you, my lord."

“It is frustrating to desire what you cannot obtain, but it can be equally tedious to obtain everything you desire,” he observed.  “Do you know what I mean?”

Maze thought about it for a moment, unsure where he was going with his line of questioning.  “Yes.  I’ve seen it in some of the souls.  Humans tend to become self-destructive when life is too easy for them.” 

“Not just humans.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Maze answered honestly.  She had no problem seeing into the heads of the humans, but had not been given the same gift with respect to the other demons, and she certainly did not know what was in Lucifer’s head. In fact, it seemed disrespectful to contemplate, and she reined in her wandering mind despite her curiosity.

They fell silent, sipping their drinks and watching the flames.  She could sense that he was watching her intently but kept her focus on the fire. If he needed something, he would speak.  If not, she would wait.  His room was much warmer than hers at night and she felt privileged, doubting any other demon had ever set foot within his personal chambers. 

After a few minutes, she saw him begin to get up from the chair and she was about to jump to her feet, assuming he had decided it was time to send her away, when he surprised her by sitting down next to her at the hearth.  She had never seen him sit on a floor before and it felt odd to be looking at him at the same level.  He was quite a bit taller than she, and she was used to always looking up at him.

“It looked nice and warm down there,” he said, by way of an explanation that she didn’t for a moment believe.  Despite the heat, a shiver ran through her body and made her twitch.  Maze felt oddly unsettled by his behavior.  He was too close to her.  She would have known what it was coming from a human or another demon, but she couldn’t fathom it coming from the Lord of Darkness.  Maze watched the firelight play across his face, trying to read his expression.  His human face was incredibly attractive, as was hers. It was just another way of unsettling the humans, who had an odd innate belief that beautiful people were good and unattractive people were the ones to shy away from, a belief that they would _swiftly_ be disabused of in Hell. 

“Why do you wear your human face when we’re alone?” she asked, a little surprised by her own boldness and even more surprised when Lucifer looked startled.  It was not an expression she’d ever seen from him.

“I…I don’t really know.  I suppose I am just used to having to wear it.  Our guests deteriorate into madness when they see my real face and it’s no fun to punish someone too insane to appreciate it.”

She nodded.  “That’s true, but I’m not a human.  It doesn’t matter to me.” 

As she watched, he let down his guard and his handsome exterior shimmered away, leaving the red musculature and piercing eyes of his true form.  He watched her intently for a reaction, but the look on her face was mere curiosity. 

“You told the truth.  You really don’t care.”  His voice was tinged with genuine wonder.

“I would not lie to you, my Lord,” she reminded him.  “You don't react when I show my true face, either.  We know what we are.”

He actually laughed.  “You surprised me.  I liked it.  No one ever surprises me.” He grinned at her, his face morphing between the two versions as if he could not quite decide before he settled back into the human form and grinned.  “Do it again.”

“Surprise you?”

“Ask me a question no one else would dare to ask.”

She smiled and inclined her head, looking up at him through her lashes.  “That sounds like a dangerous game, my Lord.” 

“No repercussions.  You have my word.  Ask me anything.” 

Maze considered that for a moment, an array of decidedly inappropriate questions shuffling through her mind.  His physical proximity was distracting, to say the least. She knew she should not be affected by the attractive shell he wore, should know it was an illusion, but she was finding it impossible not to look at his bare chest just inches from her, the muscles taking on a golden tone in the firelight.

Finally, she chose one that seemed daring enough but not too disrespectful.

“Have _you_ seen anything in the humans’ memories you would want to experience?” 

“No,” he answered quickly.  “As you noted, they’re…limited.  Have you ever tried to really talk to one?”  He made a disparaging noise.  “Pointless.  They can’t even follow along.”

Maze laughed.  “I often wish for a battle of wits with a more worthy opponent.”

“Yes!” His eyes glowed momentarily, but it was the golden glow of excitement rather than anger.  He reached out and put his hand on the side of her face and she shuddered.  She had never permitted anyone to touch her except the humans who she knew she could control, and the sensation of Lucifer’s touch was so much stronger…it was electric.  His thumb stroked a path along her jawline, feeling hotter than the fire and she felt like she could not sit still.  “I suppose that’s why I asked you here.  I needed the mental stimulation.”   

Maze rolled her eyes before she thought about it.  “That’s not the reason.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them, even though she knew she was right.  _What was she thinking?_   She had slipped, had been too familiar. The fact that he had goaded her into it meant nothing.  She was a demon, his servant, and she knew the rules.  She scooted back, away from his touch, and quickly got to her feet.

“I’m sorry, my Lord.  I have overstepped…”

She couldn’t leave until he dismissed her, and hoped he’d do so, that she might retire to her own chamber before she did or said something worse _._

Lucifer stood up slowly and walked toward her.  She cast her eyes downward, reminding herself that moving away was disobedience as well.  Again, he stood entirely too close to her and his hand went to her face again, this time sliding further up so that his fingertips caught in her hair.  She swallowed hard.

His predatory smile was the same one she wore as she watched one of her own subjects beg for mercy, and suddenly she understood, or thought she did, his pleasure at her discomfiture.  If he had wanted sex from her, he merely had to ask and she would have obeyed, but he wanted to play with her mind in the same way she often played with the minds of her subjects.  The thought flashed through her mind as he stepped closer to her, so that their bodies almost touched and their faces were inches apart. 

“I have obedience all day long, Mazikeen.”  His words were a hiss in her ear.  “I’m saturated with obedience.  Bland, predictable, boring, year after year after _year_. I can’t-“

Her demonic nature took over then, overriding any thought of self-preservation.  His words cut off sharply when Maze turned her head and licked him, her tongue running down the side of his face, past his ear and down his jawline. It hadn’t been a gentle movement either, but firm and confident, a hint of other things, and it made him shudder.  He pulled back a bit to meet her gaze and she _smiled_ at him.  Smiled at him even as his eyes glowed red and he let his façade dissolve to show his true face.  One hand went to the back of her neck, the other to her waist, and he pulled her hard against him, expecting her to resist, but she melted against him instead.  Her skin was surprisingly soft and silky to the touch, seemingly untouched by all the exposure to ash and fire. 

He kissed her then and she let her true face emerge as he did.  He had never before tonight touched, let alone kissed, a demon and it was impossible to pretend she was anything else. She, too, expected he would react to the change but he put both hands on her face, one on the flesh covered cheekbone and one on the bare sinews on the left side, and deepened the kiss.

When he finally broke it and they drew apart for a breath, they had both reassumed their human forms.  Her head was spinning; she thought she had known what he was doing, but a master torturer could not fail to see vulnerability when it was right in front of her.  Worse yet, she felt like he was reflecting her own weakness back at her, weakness she hadn’t known she possessed.  His hands were wrapped firmly around her back; she couldn’t move and his face so close to hers made her oddly nervous. She involuntarily cut her eyes to the side, looking to escape his gaze, to hide. 

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

She fought for control of herself.  The demon in her wanted to do as it pleased but she had outlived many demons who had let their desires in the moment override their good judgment and political savvy, although she surely did not know of any who had found themselves in this position before – or perhaps they had not survived to tell the story.

Maze forced herself to stay still, although he still held her and she felt her hands twitch against his back despite her best efforts.  “I thought you wanted it.”

His eyes glowed red at her and there was a great rustling sound as his wings appeared and wrapped around her.  She had never seen anything that purely white before and the sweet, fresh smell of them was nothing that existed in her world.  It was intoxicating; her head spun from the fragrance and at the same time she realized she was completely and utterly trapped. She could see nothing but Lucifer and the wings, as if they were in a tiny room with only enough space for two.

“What do _you_ want, Mazikeen?”

She growled involuntarily in frustration.  Whatever game he was playing, she could not figure it out.  What she wanted did not matter.  It had mattered so little over the course of the eons she’d been alive that she tried to think about it as little as possible, and now here he was, demanding answers from her about things she barely understood herself?

“I want what you want,” she told him, able to think of no other comfortable answer.  Her back hit the stone wall almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth; he’d spun her around and now pressed against her.  The wings somewhat cushioned the hit but she felt like he’d left her no space to breathe or at least she told herself that was the reason she couldn’t catch her breath.  His lips caught hers again, rougher this time and she kissed him back, aware that she was pressing herself into his bare chest and that her hands had crept up his back, itching to touch the wings themselves. 

Suddenly, he stepped back and swept one wing outward, the motion leaving a trail of scent in the air where it had been. In the space where it had been, Maze could see the door faintly in the firelight.

“Good night, Mazikeen.”

She stared at him, feeling her lower lip start to quiver and biting it to make it stop.  Did he mean it?  It was impossible to read the expression on his face.  His wing was pointing at the door.  Wordless, she turned and stepped away but as she reached the door she remembered what he had said about obedience.

_What do you want, Mazikeen?_

Maze stopped short, whirled and crossed the room again.  His expression had been one of disappointment as she turned but she saw the smile return to his face as she reached him.   He picked her up and swung her around, putting her back against the wall again but this time she wrapped her long legs around him and unashamedly buried her hands in the fine pinfeathers at the base of his wings, luxuriating in their feel.  He growled in triumph and bit the side of her neck, making her moan and throw her head back. 

He was as fast and athletic as she; she barely felt the wind in her hair before he had her on the silk-covered bed.  Her nightdress was gone with one yank of his hand and she shook her limbs, ridding herself of the scraps that remained behind.  Then he sat back on his heels and, very deliberately, brought his wings forward to trail the tips over her body, matching lines of sensation on each side.  It was more than the feel of a feather, faintly electric and she twitched as the wing tips traveled up her thighs and sucked in her breath as they reached her flat stomach.  She heard him chuckle, low and amused as they reached her breasts and hesitated, feathers flicking softly back and forth over her nipples.  She couldn’t stay still and writhed on the bed, incoherent noises coming out of her, her own eyes glowing gold in the darkness, reveling in something she hadn’t known she wanted. 

And then he was on top of her again, the heat from his chest warming her even as his hands locked around her wrists and pinned them above her head.  Undeterred by the confinement of her hands, she brought her knees up on both sides of him until she could hook her toes into the waist of his pants and move them down his hips. 

“My clever little demon,” he murmured into her ear, and with that he thrust into her as she arched up to meet him.  His eyes rolled back in pleasure; everything was somehow amplified with her, every feeling and sensation stronger and he could tell she was experiencing the same thing.  She wrapped her legs around him, trying to drive him even deeper inside her. 

He was used to having a human under his spell and helpless, an inconsequential creature who would do as he wished because they had no choice in the matter. Having a demon underneath him with her own power, her own dark energy colliding with his, was mindblowing.  And she had _chosen_ it!  He drove into her and the rougher he was, the more she responded; he had meant to torture her, to draw this out, but found he had no will to resist her and the discipline he always had when his partner was a human had disappeared.  Mazikeen was his match, dark, violent and shameless, as eager for this as he was, so marvelously different from anyone he had experienced before.  

With a growl, he released her hands and she wrapped them around his shoulder blades, her nails digging harshly into the base of his wings.  He matched the violence of the act, biting the side of her neck hard enough to taste her blood. She let out a low moan and he felt her contracting around him.  The feeling was indescribable, and he groaned into her neck as he came hard, her blood still on his tongue, the corners of his vision going black. 

He moved slightly to the side, just aware enough not to crush her tiny frame, and rolled off of her, trying to catch his breath, completely spent in a way he’d never felt before.  What had she done to him? He was certain he’d had the upper hand only minutes ago, that he was only amusing himself by trying something new, seeing if he could tempt a demon as easily as he could tempt a human, but Maze was like some sort of drug that had instantly addicted him.  And he wasn’t susceptible to things like that, anyway, he was the Lord of Hell, he was supposed to be _invulnerable_.  

Maze considered staying silent until he spoke, but she was doing a terrible job resisting her impulses tonight. Not that he seemed to mind.  She turned and leaned over him, shaking her long hair to one side and out of her way.

“Still bored?”

Lucifer shook his head slowly.  “Now I know why my father told me I mustn’t touch the demons. I may never let you leave my bed again.”

“As you wish, my Lord.”  She smiled at him and laid her head on his chest and he settled a hand into her hair and started to play with it.  It felt so nice she couldn’t believe it. _Snuggling_ had not been a part of her previous interactions with others, and while she wouldn’t have welcomed it or even permitted it from anyone else, everything about this night was surreal.  

“You know…I have some business to attend to on Earth…would you like to come with me?  You’ve never been, have you?”

“No,” she admitted.  “I’ve never been away from Hell."

“Well, then I’ll take you.  I’ve never had anyone to travel with.”  He sounded gleeful at the prospect and while Maze could hardly contain her excitement at the thought of not only seeing Earth, but seeing it with _him_ , it sounded unwise. 

“Your father may not appreciate that,” she reminded him.  “He did tell you to stay away from demons.”

Lucifer waved his hand dismissively before settling it back on her bare shoulder.  “That’s Old Testament Dad. He’s trying to be more of a role model these days.  At least to the general public.  He won’t smite you for warming my bed.  Anyway, it’s not as if you could disobey my orders,” he pointed out, grinning wickedly.

“You didn’t order me into your bed,” she reminded him.

“ _He_ doesn’t know that.”  He stroked her neck, noting with some disappointment that the bite had already almost healed over.  He would have to think of a way to mark her more permanently as his.   "All right, enough talking about my father, let's get back to focusing on me and what I want. Which is more of you."  He flipped her over in one smooth move, with an evil chuckle that would have terrified anyone with a soul but was like music to Maze's ears.

"Whatever you wish, my Lord," Maze responded, this time with a giggle.  

**Author's Note:**

> I saw that someone wanted to read about Mazifer in Hell, and since my ADHD brain will use any excuse to write something other than the stuff I’m supposed to be writing, here you go! I haven't read all the comics yet, but I've started, and I'm utterly fascinated with the idea of Mazikeen being the Queen of Hell, because, duh, she's so obviously a queen, and the two of them ruling together, so I guess this was my take on how that might have started. 
> 
> I went back and forth on the dialogue and if I should make it sound more historically accurate, but really, they've been around so long that they should be speaking Sumerian or something and my brain fried at the concept and I gave up and they're just gonna speak modern English. Consider it a translation. ;-)


End file.
